


The Piano Has Been Drinking, Not Me

by CoffeeWithConsequences



Series: 82 Games [4]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Piano
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 11:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15000152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeWithConsequences/pseuds/CoffeeWithConsequences
Summary: “You don’t actually have to be good at everything, Zimmermann. Some things you can just do because you want to do them, not to Be Better.” The capitalization was clear in his voice.“You really think that’s true?” Jack didn’t sound sad, but he sounded a bit disbelieving.“Of course I do,” Bitty scoffed. “For most people, it’s obvious. You forget, sometimes, that the rest of us weren’t born smart and gorgeous with preternatural athletic abilities. We have to try things, see what we’re good at, see what we like. And some things, we like even if we ain’t any good at them at all.”Bitty learns that Jack plays the piano.





	The Piano Has Been Drinking, Not Me

**Author's Note:**

> I am having a truly terrible week, so I wanted to create something that was nice and warm and fluffy. And, because I am who I am, that devolved into smut. So come with me into a beautiful private world for Jack and Bitty, and we can all feel better for a little while.

It was already late when Bitty let himself in to Jack’s apartment with his own key. He still got a thrill out of that thought--his own key! Though they’d been together eight months already, Bitty wondered if it was ever going to stop feeling new. He was quiet as he entered, not sure if Jack would already be asleep.

As he walked into the kitchen, Bitty realized the soft music he was hearing wasn’t coming from another apartment. He wrinkled his brow and listened. It didn’t sound like something Jack would be playing--not that Jack often listened to music when he was by himself. Was it the television? Dropping his bag, he walked into the living room.

Jack Zimmermann was playing the piano. The furniture had been rearranged, and there was now a piano in one corner. Jack was on the bench, his back to Bitty. He was wearing a soft blue t-shirt, and his broad shoulders were slightly hunched, as if the bench needed to be adjusted. His hands were on the keys.

Bitty watched in silence. Jack wasn’t playing all that well--he was picking out notes more slowly than they were intended, clearly lost in concentration. But he was playing.

As not to startle Jack, Bitty spoke quietly from the doorway. “Sweetheart, I had no idea you could play the piano!”

Jack didn’t turn around, but his fingers stilled on the keys. “Yeah,” he said. His voice was softer than usual. “Come over here?”

Bitty crossed the room and slid in next to Jack on the piano bench. Jack wrapped his arm around Bitty and pressed his face into Bitty’s neck. Bitty inhaled, filling himself up with the Jack smell that was never strong enough on the t-shirts he sometimes smuggled back to Samwell and slept in.

“You OK darlin’?”

Jack nodded and pulled his face away. “Yeah. Hard game.”

Bitty reached his face up to kiss Jack gently. “Saw the score when I got off the train. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Jack shrugged. “Have to lose sometimes.”

They were quiet for a moment, then Bitty reached out and pressed down on one of the ivory keys, startling slightly at the sound it made. “Why didn’t you tell me you could play the piano?”

Jack didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed the bench back a bit and pulled Bitty into his lap. Once Bitty was settled, he reached around the Bitty’s sides and returned his fingers to the keys. He started to play again, slowly and hesitantly, and spoke directly into Bitty’s ear.

“I took lessons as a kid. Good for hand-eye coordination. Small motor skills. Good on the ice.”

Bitty laughed. “It always comes back to hockey.”

Bitty felt Jack nod, his face inches from Bitty’s neck. He hesitated, the spoke again. “When I was in rehab, there was a piano there.” He paused, trying to find words. “There was nothing to do. So much TV. So I started playing it.” He switched his fingers to new keys, started a new song. Bitty didn’t recognize it. “This piano was always in our house growing up--my mom plays. So when I got home, I kept playing.” Bitty felt him shrug. “I’m not any good. But it’s nice, sometimes. Something else to think about.”

“It is nice,” Bitty agreed, rest back against Jack a bit, his eyes following Jack’s fingers on the keys. “It’s sexy.”

Jack chuckled. “Nothing gets you hot like “Mary Had a Little Lamb.”” He abruptly switched his hands again and began to play exactly that.

Bitty laughed. “So, your parents shipped you the piano?”

Jack nodded against his shoulder again, returning to the song he’d been playing. “I thought it might...help. Kaya said…”

Bitty didn’t press. He knew Jack had trouble talking about his therapist.

Jack continued after a moment. “Kaya said she thought it was good, for relaxation? To unwind after games?” He sounded unsure, as if he was afraid Bitty would laugh at him

Bitty reached his hands out, pressing his smaller fingers over Jack’s longer ones where they rested on the keys. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Jack pushed his fingers up through Bitty’s until they were laced together. “It’s...you won’t have to listen to it. I can do it when you aren’t here. I know I’m not good at it.”

Bitty shook his head. He wanted to look back at Jack, but knew by now that sometimes this sort of conversation was easier for Jack if he didn’t have to make eye contact. “You don’t actually have to be good at everything, Zimmermann. Some things you can just do because you want to do them, not to Be Better.” The capitalization was clear in his voice.

“You really think that’s true?” Jack didn’t sound sad, but he sounded a bit disbelieving.

“Of course I do,” Bitty scoffed. “For most people, it’s obvious. You forget, sometimes, that the rest of us weren’t born smart and gorgeous with preternatural athletic abilities. We have to try things, see what we’re good at, see what we like. And some things, we like even if we ain’t any good at them at all.”

Jack considered for a moment, but Bitty spoke again before he could answer. “I’m glad you have this. I think it’s great. And Jack? I love it that you’re not good at it.”

Jack chuckled. “Why?”

“Because if I found out about one more thing you just happened to be a genius at, I’d probably have to kill you.”

Jack pulled his hands from the keys and tightened his arms around Bitty’s waist. “There are lots of things I’m not good at, Bits. I just don’t advertise them.”

Bitty shrugged. “You’re great at the important ones.” He leaned back into Jack, resting his head on Jack’s shoulder. “Kiss me.”

This kiss was long and slow and sweet. It was an awkward angle, but they were both committed. When he slipped his tongue between Jack’s lips, Bitty tasted toothpaste and Gatorade. As they pulled apart, he looked carefully at Jack’s face for the first time since he walked in. “You look so tired, baby.”

Jack nodded. “It’s been a long week.”

“Do you want to go to bed?”

Jack quirked one side of his mouth up. “Yes. But not to sleep. Not yet.”

Bitty raised his eyebrows, but didn't’ say anything.

They walked toward the bedroom holding hands. Bitty left his bags where he dropped them in the kitchen--they could wait until morning. Anything that wasn’t this could wait.

When Jack reached down to pull his t-shirt off, Bitty both saw and heard his wince. He stepped forward and reached up to pull the shirt over Jack’s head, then examined his torso in the low light. A huge bruise blossomed over his ribs, purple and near-black. “Goodness,” Bitty muttered. “That one’s bad.”

Jack shrugged. “Part of the game.”

“Don’t get philosophical. How much do you hurt right now?” Bitty looked into Jack’s eyes fiercely. “Don’t lie.”

“It’s not so bad,” Jack couched. “Just a little sore. Two hard checks. My legs are probably worse.”

“Good Lord,” Bitty mumbled. “Animals.” He fixed Jack with the same look he gave the Frogs when they made a mess in the kitchen. “OK. You do nothing. I do everything. You got it?”

Jack smiled. “Yes, Bits.” He reached down to the waist of his sweats.

“You’re not great with instructions, sweetheart,” Bitty groused, putting his hands over Jack’s. “I meant it. You do nothing.”

Jack stood still, a half-smile on his face, while Bitty undressed him. His left leg was, as promised, nearly as a badly bruised as his ribs. Bitty hissed when he saw it. “Did you get in the ice bath after the game?” he demanded.

“Of course,” Jack replied. “It’s really not a big deal, bud. I’ve had worse.”

Bitty shook his head and didn’t answer. He pushed gently against Jack’s chest to get him backed up against the bed. “Lie down.”

Jack did as he was told. “Take your clothes off, too.”

Bitty smiled and started to unbutton his shirt. He made a bit of a show of undressing--no dancing, but he made sure to keep Jack’s attention. By the time he was naked, Jack’s cock was showing interest and his eyes were warm and amused.

Bitty climbed carefully next to Jack on the mattress. “Tell me if anything hurts,” he instructed. He leaned over and kissed Jack’s lips, long and soft.

“Doesn’t hurt,” Jack murmured as Bitty pulled his mouth away.

Bitty ran his lips over Jack’s stubbled cheeks, the line of his jaw. Jack tipped his head back against the pillow and let Bitty mouth gently at his neck, down to his collarbones. Bitty ran his tongue over them, first one and then the other, and Jack shivered. Bitty stopped and looked up.

“Doesn’t hurt,” Jack said, smiling down. “Feels good.”

“Good, sweetheart. That’s good.” Bitty turned back to what he was doing. He held his body off Jack’s, making sure not to put any weight on Jack as he continued to explore his skin. Gentle fingers joined his mouth, running through Jack’s chest hair, circling slowly over sore muscles. Bitty kept his touch light, looking for places where Jack was sore.

They weren’t in a hurry. Jack let himself lie back and relax, enjoy Bitty’s attention on him. It wasn’t like this for them all that often--Bitty tended toward impatience, and Jack toward taking control. This was nice.

Eventually, Bitty pulled himself up and met Jack’s eyes again. “You OK?”

“I’m great,” Jack replied, loving that it was true. “You?”

“I’m great,” Bitty agreed. “Can you spread your legs a little bit?”

Jack nodded and spread his thighs enough for Bitty to sit on his knees between them. Bitty held Jack’s gaze as he ran his fingers over Jack’s abdomen. “You’re losing weight,” he noted.

Jack frowned. “I know.”

“I’ll cook for you this weekend,” Bitty said. “Get your freezer stocked up.”

Jack smiled. “You don’t have to do that.”

Bitty shook his head and smirked. “Really? You think I’m gonna let you eat that prepacked nutritionist stuff? Or, worse yet, your own cooking?” He shook his head. “I got your back.”

“You always do.”

Bitty leaned forward again, running his tongue down Jack’s navel, dipping into his belly button. Jack shivered.

“Ticklish?”

“Little bit. Don’t stop.”

Bitty smiled against Jack’s stomach and continued his exploration, moving down to mouth at Jack’s hip bones.

After a few minutes, during which the proximity of Bitty’s mouth to Jack’s cock finished getting Jack hard, Bitty slid down further, kissing gently at Jack’s thigh muscles, then tracing the path of his kisses with his fingers. Jack made a small, pleased noise.

“Sore there?” Bitty asked, rubbing with his thumb.

“Yeah,” Jack admitted. “God, that feels good.”

“Then I won’t stop.”

Bitty made slow progress, not really massaging, but touching, rubbing, kissing, licking. Making Jack aware of his body as something other than the ball of tense pain it had been at the end of the game. He went all the way down to Jack’s feet, then cradled them in his hands, one by one, pushing his thumbs into the arch until Jack moaned.

“God, Bits.” Jack reached down to pull Bitty back up the bed, and Bitty went willingly, again taking his weight off Jack before leaning over to kiss him. This kiss was warmer, faster.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Bitty whispered against Jack’s lips. “Anything you want.”

“I don’t...whatever you want.” Even months in, Jack was shy about asking.

Bitty shook his head. “Jack, you can ask.” He reached down and wrapped a gentle hand around Jack’s erection. Jack hissed, almost over-sensitive.

“Can you...will you...use your mouth?” Jack blushed furiously when he asked.

Bitty smiled. “Of course.” He kissed Jack again. “I love havin’ you in my mouth.”

The words hit Jack as hard as Bitty’s hand and he made an embarrassing, high noise against Bitty’s lips.

“Oh, you like it when I talk like that?” Bitty grinned. “Should I tell you about layin’ up in my bed at the Haus, thinkin’ about suckin’ you? About this big cock,” he punctuated the words with a light squeeze, “between my lips?”

“Fuck,” Jack muttered, already rocking up into Bitty’s hand.

Bitty returned to his place between Jack’s spread thighs, stroking Jack’s length very gently, his eyes still on Jack’s face, dancing with amusement and lust. “Maybe you want me to to tell you about last time I was over here?” he asked. “About ridin’ you on this bed? About how I was so sore when I got on the train I thought for sure somebody would know?” He tightened his grip only very slightly. “Spent the whole way back to Samwell thinkin’ about you, hard in me. Kissin’ you while you pushed up inside me.”

“Christ, Bitty, please…” Jack mumbled, descending into French as he pushed up harder against Bitty’s still-gentle hand.

Bitty smirked. “OK, captain. Whatever you say.” He leaned forward and ran his tongue up the underside of Jack’s cock in one long lick, then listened for Jack’s moan.

It hadn’t taken Bitty long to learn to give good head. Jack wasn’t vocal about what he liked, but his body made it clear, and Bitty was paying attention. Jack liked it gentle, teasing. He liked kitten licks and just the shadow of sharp teeth. He liked being brought off slowly, having to wait. Much of the time, Bitty couldn’t help but go faster. Tonight, he concentrated on Jack’s minute shifts and gasps and took his time.

Bitty knew when Jack was nearly there, muttering in quiet French, his hands in Bitty’s hair. He didn’t pull, but he was guiding Bitty’s head now, though unaware he was doing it. Bitty grinned around him, taking his cock as deep as possible and swallowing, holding Jack’s hips down to make sure this didn’t end with a broken nose. Just as Bitty knew he would, Jack pushed up against him, body taking over as he came. Bitty swallowed and swallowed around him, finally pulling off when he had to breathe, then sitting up to look at Jack’s face, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

Jack was panting, his lips parted, his eyes wide. “How the fuck,” he asked in gasping breath, “do you do that? You’re amazing.”

Bitty smirked and moved over so he could cuddle up next to Jack, manhandling him until Bitty was sitting up against the pillows and Jack’s still-shaking body was cradled against him, Jack’s head on his chest. “Practice?” he suggested.

“You do have a hell of a work ethic,” Jack allowed, smiling against Bitty’s ribs.

“I’ve heard I’m very teachable,” Bitty agreed, smiling.

“Just give me a minute,” Jack said, finally coming back to himself enough to notice how hard Bitty was, his cock straining only a small distance from Jack’s face. “Gotta catch my breath.”

“Nope,” Bitty said. “I told you, I do the work tonight.” He reached down, and Jack understood why Bitty positioned them this way. He was close enough to watch as Bitty stroked himself, but not so close he was going to get a face full if he didn’t want one.

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” Jack said, his eyes glued to Bitty’s hand moving over his cock. “I love watching you.”

“I know,” Bitty said, his breath beginning to catch. This was something he’d been embarrassed about, at first. He’d never really thought about having anybody watch him touch himself--had still, somewhere in the back of his mind, been ashamed of doing it at all. Jack liked it, though, and tended to give compliments while he watched, so Bitty got used to it.

“You’ve got such great hands,” Jack continued. Bitty knew Jack would be blushing if he could hear himself, but he wasn’t really aware of what he was saying. “Love watching you work yourself.”

Bitty wouldn’t last long--he’d been aroused since the moment he saw Jack on the piano bench. He didn’t try to drag it out, knowing how tired Jack was. Within a few minutes, he was trying to hold his body still, as not to dislodge Jack, but pushing up into his palm, searching for release.

“Come for me,” Jack murmured, already sounding sleepy. Bitty could just barely feel Jack’s lips against his skin. “I want to watch you come. Don’t try to be quiet.”

Bitty did as instructed, letting himself groan as he came into his fist, angling himself away to make sure he avoided Jack’s face. As he got his breath back, Jack kissed his chest idly. “I love it when you’re here,” Jack said, his voice muffled. “Everything's better when you’re here.”

Bitty hadn’t known, before, that having your heart soar was an actual feeling, not just an expression. But there it was. “I love bein’ here,” he answered, leaning down to kiss the top of Jack’s head. “I love bein’ in your house. In your kitchen, in your bed. And I’m gonna love listenin’ to you play your piano.”

Jack smiled against him, then moved as if to get up. “I’ll just go get…”

“No,” Bitty used his clean hand to push Jack gently back against the bed. “I got it. I’ll be right back.”

A few minutes later, Bitty returned, cleaned up and in his pajamas. Jack was already asleep, still spread across the bed, naked, his bruises not so obvious in the low light. Tomorrow, Bitty thought, he’d get up and make Jack breakfast, and force him to eat more than he wanted, and fill up his freezer. They’d watch TV together on Jack’s couch, and he’d bully Jack into icing those bruises. They wouldn’t have much time--just a weekend--but they’d spend it together, and it would be enough.

“Everything’s better when you’re here, too,” Bitty whispered, pulling the sheet up over Jack. “Thank you for lettin’ me love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please come visit me on [Tumblr](https://coffeewithconsequences.tumblr.com/) or read the rest of my fic here at [Archive of Our Own](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeWithConsequences/works)!


End file.
